Gary Barlow: Take That come first – it’s my job

Gary Barlow says The X Factor has made him more recognisable than ever (Picture: Blair Getz Mezibov)

It’s taken Gary Barlow two stints in Take That to find his solo mojo. This time he’s confident.

‘Mainstream? That describes me, definitely. I wanna be mainstream. It may come from my upbringing – I was brought up on The Beatles, Abba and Elton John: really good, wholesome popular music with big hooks. I’d rather be slagged off but have millions of people listening, I really would.’

Gary Barlow is making no bones about success at his London studio. It’s an impressive space: part muso’s paradise strewn with vintage keyboards (it previously belonged to Massive Attack/Björk producer Nellee Hooper); part pop museum (a flush of Smash Hits awards is proudly displayed); part Bond-style lair. He’s casually attired, mug of milky tea in hand, familiar features slightly bleary – he’s just been filming at the X Factor house and he’s set to be more prominent than ever over the next few months.

If 2012 was the year of Barlow’s Queen’s Jubilee commission (and OBE), late 2013 packs in his ongoing TV series, plus Children In Need charity work and his first proper solo album for 14 years, Since I Saw You Last, all culminating in an end-of-year concert.

Since I Saw You Last resounds with exuberant pop rock songwriting, including latest single Let Me Go, Requiem (co-written with reconciled Take That buddy Robbie Williams) and Face To Face (a glammy stomper with Elton John). It’s catchy and unabashedly mainstream, and it also feels like a moment he’s been waiting for.

Take That’s stadium-sized comeback proved a positive turning point for all its members (Picture: supplied)

‘I’d had years out of the limelight where I never even sang in my own studio,’ he says. ‘I kept making music but I was telling myself: “I don’t need to be an artist any more; I started as a songwriter.” I think I was kidding meself.’

If Barlow describes that period of withdrawal – following Take That’s original split and a shaky solo venture – as ‘denial’, then it was reversed by their triumphant 2005 reunion as a ‘man band’ (which his wife jokingly terms his ‘midlife crisis’).

‘I remember being onstage with Take That in front of 80,000 people at Manchester’s Etihad Stadium and it was like a light went back on. I thought: “Bloody hell, I really do love singing.” I needed to be in Take That to get that confidence back to try it alone again.’

Everything changes, as the Take That chart-topper goes. Nowadays, 42-year-old Barlow is sanguine, yet he’s also noticeably more guarded than when I last interviewed him, between his 1997 solo debut Open Road and the panned 1999 follow-up, Twelve Months, Eleven Days, when the media presented him as an unfit competitor to the raucous Williams. There’s frankness in Barlow’s northern brogue but he also appears candid without giving too much away.

‘The last album I made was so laden with people telling me who I should sound like that I listen back now and think: “Who’s that?”’ he says. ‘Since I Saw You Last was easy to make; there’s a lot of my life on this record.’

That personal touch also drives his commercial appeal: ‘I want these songs to be in people’s houses. I love hearing “your song was the first dance at my wedding” or “we played it at my son’s christening”.’

He mentions that Requiem was inspired by his own father’s funeral. ‘We were all so upset, and I just looked up at the clouds and thought: if I know my dad, he’s up there laughing at us all now. The idea for the song came from looking down and saying: “C’mon, everybody, it’s fine.” There’s a bit of darkness in there but mostly light. It’s about just getting on with life.’

Barlow and his wife, Dawn (Picture: Getty)

If Barlow has a no-nonsense approach to music, it’s coupled with a list of priorities. ‘My job is that I’m a member of Take That. When the band works, the diary clears,’ he explains. ‘Following that is doing my record; below that is being on TV.’

Even so, he admits that judging The X Factor over the past three years has had a radical impact on his life. ‘I’ve never known being so recognised, ever,’ he says. ‘I don’t know whether the internet means you’re in everyone’s faces all the time, not just on Saturday night. London’s the one place I’d get left alone but it’s really changed things.’

Isn’t that a difficult experience? ‘It’s new,’ he replies, carefully. ‘I can take my kids to school but I’m being watched. You learn to get around quicker – you become a moving target!’

He’s unsure how Take That would have fared on The X Factor. ‘It took us ages to get noticed,’ he recalls. ‘We’d have lost our deal after the first record wasn’t a hit.’

He still draws on his early musical experience, though, and played a fairly intimate solo tour last Christmas. ‘It was like playing the working men’s clubs as a teenager again. There was no big trick we could do with an elephant or lighting. It was about the art of taking an audience on a journey. That’s what made me wanna do another record.’

There was also the conviction that he had to take control on his own terms. ‘The first time around was a massive reality check,’ he says. ‘I’d paved the way to do this solo thing, and never felt like I’d got a fair chance. It shocked me how quick and fickle the industry was, even though we’d been warned.’

He’s less inclined to worry nowadays and insists past challenges have made him stronger. But does this prime-time hitmaker risk becoming too ubiquitous? ‘I might sell two records,’ he claims. I say he knows that won’t happen, and he responds with cautious confidence: ‘All right, then. I might sell five.’